DLS #2 : Swim club

Regular readers will know I’ve not been sleeping well recently and waking up far too early. What I’ve not mentioned is that over the last year or so I have fallen out if the habit of taking exercise and have put on more wieght than I am happy with. I have resolved to remedy the latter by making use of my early mornings and, as a former competitive swimmer, I intend to be beasting myself up and down our local swimming pool on a regular basis.

This morning was day one of my new regime. I woke up 2hrs before I needed to start the day, with my usual hard-on, and as much as I would have like to toss myself off, figured my time and calories would be better spent submersed in chlorinated water. So off I went to the pool.

It’s a while since I’ve done much swimming and my fitness is a fraction of what it used to be, so I took it easy for my first mile in the water. But I was gratified that despite doing breast stroke, I was still faster than any of my fellow early birds who were doing freestyle. You will not, therefore, be surprised to hear there was not a single svelte swimmer’s body worth letching over. All about me bobbed saggy pensioners and corpulent business men.

My mile swum, I ached a righteous ache. Although I do not consider my current physical state to be remotely sexy, with a quantity of endorphins coursing through my veins to which I have long been unaccustomed, combined with my morning testosterone peak, I felt horny as hell.

The current trend at UK pools, much to my disliking, seems to be for mixed gender changing rooms, so you can’t have a proper shower and have to get dressed in cramped cubicles. And so I found myself naked in a cramped box. And hormonally stoked as I was, I stroked my cock till it was alert with the intent of shuffling off a quick hard hand fuck.

I’d like to say that all that testosterone came spraying forth from my turgid member in hot salty jets, but if I’m honest, my lack of fitness was an insurmountable hurdle. My triceps and deltoids, having ne’er an once of sugar between them, soon promised imminent cramp, and I had to release my eager cock from my not so eager grip before the lactic acid got the better of me. I failed to get off. But my target, as I regain some fitness, is to sucessfully shoot my load on my next visit to the swimming pool. Wish me luck.

Was it not you good self that, just a few weeks ago, was prising open her labia and sinking her fingers into her slippery hole openly in the gym changing rooms? You inspire me to pull back my foreskin.

Haven’t encountered co-ed changing rooms – and as you describe them, it sounds especially frustrating – I imagine almost all the (straight) men are sitting in theri cubicles as you were, boning off – I know I would!